


Chapter Two- Dottie Underwood

by ProjectOrthus, ProjectPython



Series: Agent Carter Season Three [2]
Category: Agent Carter - Fandom, MCU
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 15:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19359916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProjectOrthus/pseuds/ProjectOrthus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProjectPython/pseuds/ProjectPython
Summary: Jack Thompson is dead, and Peggy doesn’t know who killed him, or why they took her file. While Peggy begins the investigation, she gets a call from Howard Stark, who needs help getting out of a sticky situation involving blackmail and one of his “Bad Babies”. Dottie Underwood tries on a new identity.





	Chapter Two- Dottie Underwood

Dr. Samberly was waiting for them in the laboratory. 

“I was wondering if you’d come to see me,” he said, looking up from his work. “We sure got a new case quick, didn’t we?” He smiled, but dropped it as soon as he saw the look on Peggy’s face. “And what a shame about Agent Thompson.” He nodded. “Real... interesting guy.”

“What did the Agents bring you?” Peggy asked, walking around to him. 

“Not much,” he said. “Just this.” On the table in front of him was a plastic evidence bag, inside of which was a cloth handkerchief. Plain white, no embroidery, but a small stain on the corner.

“What is it?” Jarvis asked, leaning over his shoulder.

Samberly scoffed. “A handkerchief. Obviously.”

“We understand that, Doctor,” Peggy said. “Did you manage to find anything out with it?”

“Why should I tell you?” Samerly said, looking at the two of them accusingly. “Here I was, thinking we were friends, partners. We went through so much together, you know. And now you come in the next day acting as if none of it happened. Shame. It really is. Has my friendship expired? Do I no longer deserve respect?”

Peggy sighed noisily, and Jarvis discreetly rolled his eyes. 

“Listen, Alouicious,” Peggy said firmly, “we’re a bit strained for time here. Thompson is dead, and we must find out whatever we can about who killed him.”

“He’s dead?” Asked Samberly. “I knew he got shot, but wow. I’m not sure whether to be happy or sad. As I said, interesting guy.”

Jarvis leaned over to speak into his ear. “I think now might not be the time to say things like that,” he said. “Perhaps we had better get to work?”

“Well if you’re in that much of a hurry,” Samberly sighed. “Can’t even greet me properly, but whatever. I have a job. Apparently that’s all I have.”

“Just tell us what you’ve got,” Peggy said.

“Well I managed to extract a DNA sample from this handkerchief,” the Dr told them, “but I’m going to have to send it to a more professional lab to have it analyzed. It could take a few days.”

“As fast as we can get it,” Peggy said. “If we can find a match, we’ll have a huge lead to go off of. Thank you very much, Samberly. I’ll put in a good word with Chief Sousa for you.”

“I didn’t think you’d have to,” Samberly muttered as they left, “seeing as we’re friends and all. But alright. Fine. I see that’s not the case. Whatever.”

Peggy sighed closing the door behind her. “Honestly, he can be a good person, but sometimes I just want to...” She gave Jarvis a meaningful look. 

“I completely understand.” Jarvis said. “But he’s a very valuable resource, and we mustn't upset him too much.”

“Is there anything that won’t upset him?” Scoffed Peggy as they walked down the hallway, back towards the office area. 

Jarvis inhaled a breath, but didn’t say anything. Peggy and Jarvis opened the door to Daniel’s office, where they found him hunched over paperwork at his desk. Peggy walked up behind him, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Samberly is analyzing DNA found on a handkerchief in the hotel room.” She said. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.” Daniel said, rubbing his face. “It’s already been a long day. And it’s only ten thirty.” He sighed. “We’re going to get whoever did this.”

Just then, the desk phone rang. Daniel picked it up, shooting a quick smile at Peggy. “Chief Sousa, SSR.” He said. A pause. “How did you get this number?” Daniel turned and raised his eyebrows at Peggy. “Okay, here she is.” He held a hand over the receiver. “It’s Howard Stark.” He said, passing it to Peggy. 

“Oh lord, what now?” Peggy muttered. Then, into the phone, “Hello, Howard! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m afraid this isn’t a friendly check in, Peg.” Howard said from the other end of the line. “I need your help.”

“What, again?” Peggy asked. “I’m a bit busy at the moment, Howard.”

“Whatever. This is urgent.” Said Howard. “I’ve received a threat.”

“Like that doesn't happen often.” Scoffed Peggy. “Is that all?”

“Peg, this is serious.” Howard pressed. “I got a call from this... this guy. Told me he needed one of my inventions. One of my bad babies.”

“And why don’t you just decline?” Peggy asked. 

“Because he has... information,” Howard said carefully. “Information that, in the right hands, could tear my reputation to pieces.”

“It’s currently intact?” 

“Peggy, really.” Howard said. “If this stuff is leaked, it could mean the end of Stark Industries.”

“Hm.” Peggy said. “And why should I help you?”

“Jarvis would lose his job.” Howard tried. 

“I’ll help.” Said Peggy, flashing a smile at Jarvis. “What do you need? Not too much I hope. I wasn’t being fastidious when I said I was busy.” 

“I’ll get Jarvis to schedule a time for us to meet up.” Said Howard. “Since he’s been hanging around with you so much lately. What’s with that, by the way? I had to get up from the breakfast table to get jam this morning.”

“Oh, what horror.” Peggy said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Jarvis was aiding in a crucial investigation, working alongside some of the finest agents the SSR has to offer. And didn’t Ana help you?”

“She was gardening.” Said Howard. “And you can just say that Jarvis is driving you around.”

I’m afraid that I have to hang up on you”. Said Peggy. “As I mentioned before, I’m dreadfully busy. Good day.”

“Peg-“

Peggy hung up the phone. 

“What did he want?” Asked Daniel. 

“Help.” Said Peggy. “But it can wait. We have our own issues right now. How do you feel about a trip to the crime scene? I  
want to check, make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

 

They arrived at the hotel soon after, and the fretting clerk directed them upstairs, where room 230 was carefully roped off, being guarded by a police officer.

“Move along,” he told them. “There’s nothing to see here.”

“SSR,” said Chief Sousa, flashing his badge. “We’re here to take another look.”

“Of course,” the officer stepped to the side, lifting the rope to let them in.

The room was exactly as it had been that night. A suitcase sat on the bed, still open, a few clothes remaining unpacked. There was a small bloodstain on the floor, but other than that you might think that it was still occupied. Peggy stepped over the stain and walked to the suitcase, examining the clothes inside. On top of the folded shirts was a small picture. A young boy sat in front of his mother, the two were as still as corpses, their serious, unsmiling faces trained on the camera. Surrounding them were pots of flowers, a few draped linens in the background. The picture was clear, for the time it was taken, save for a small blur in the corner. 

“I hear he had a cat as a kid,” said Sousa, peering over her shoulder. “I think that’s what that smudge is. Must have ran through the frame or something.”

Peggy put the photo gently down. “We shouldn’t get too distracted,” she said. “Let’s start looking.”

They checked under the bed covers, `in the small fridge, the closet, the bathroom, coming up with nothing but a few dust bunnies and a bit of loose change. It was then that the police officer who had been guarding the door stepped in.

“Yeah,” he said, “we did a pretty thorough check of the room. Think we got everything.”

“Is there anything you can tell us about how it happened?” Peggy asked. 

“Well we found him in front of the door,” said the officer, pulling out a notebook and flipping through. “The shot was at close range, he didn’t have time to draw his gun... it sounds to us like a professional hit, which wouldn’t be surprising considering where he works.”

“But who would want to murder him?” Sousa said. Jarvis looked down.

“I can think of a many few people,” he muttered. 

Peggy was lost in thought, running through the most likely suspects. There was a chance they hadn’t met the attacker, of course, but it didn’t hurt to consider all their options. As far as they knew, the reason for the attack was to steal the file with her fabricated war crimes, so that might narrow their options down. They were looking for a professional, obviously, and someone with no mercy whatsoever. She grit her teeth.

“Come on, Mr. Jarvis,” she said stiffly. “We need to go.”

“Is everything alright, Miss Carter?” He asked, following her to the door. `Sousa tried his best to keep up with her quick pace. 

“I know who attacked Agent Thompson,” she said. “We need to work quickly. Who knows where she could be now.”

“She?” Jarvis asked, raising his eyebrows. “You don’t really think that...”

“Dottie Underwood,” Sousa said, coming up behind him. “Yeah, I thought she might be the one as well. But I wasn’t sure.”

“I’m positive,” Peggy told him. “She’s the only person I know who would love to have something to blackmail me with.”

“I’ll have the entire office looking for her when we get back,” said Sousa. “If she has that information, there’s no telling how quickly she’ll want to use it.”

 

The woman in the hotel room hadn’t slept. She was used to not sleeping. She had stayed up all night working, and she thought she was ready now to begin her mission. She stood up from the small hotel desk, which was scattered with newspapers, notes, and various pens, most of which had dried up sometime in the night. She was Mandy Hopkins.  
Mandy turned to the mirror, regarding herself. She didn’t look like Mandy yet, but she would soon. Mandy was a... a shy girl, someone who had grown up in Los Angeles and had never left. She preened. The first step was always, of course, the clothes. Nothing said more about a person than their clothes. This horrible red and black dress just wouldn’t do. Mandy went back to the desk and picked up a small ID card off the desk. It read Dottie Underwood. She took a lighter from the desk and lit it, watching the flame dance around before holding it up to the corner of the ID card. She watched as the flames engulfed it, and let the ashes fall to the floor. 

No more Dottie Underwood. This time, she wasn’t going to let the SSR get in her way. This time, she was going to get what she wanted, and she was going to fly far away from that horrible woman. To somewhere where she could start everything new again, be whoever she wanted to be. It was a shame. She had actually liked being Dottie.  
Mandy smiled sweetly into the mirror, then went back to the desk, where she piled up all the papers and newspaper clippings and put them neatly into her handbag. Then she scanned the room quickly, brushed off her dress (which she would soon burn), and walked confidently out of the room, leaving the door open behind her.


End file.
